


Agony Aunt

by LiveOakWithMoss



Series: Silmarillion Prompts [4]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Lalwen is everyone's favorite aunt, M/M, Necking in a stable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 10:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2021247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 4: Fingon/Maedhros, with a side of Lalwen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Agony Aunt

When he burst into Írimë’s quarters, his aunt was washing up, rinsing chalk dust from her hands. 

“Findekáno!” she said, as he threw himself without ceremony onto her couch. “My favorite nephew!” 

“Is that true?” Findekáno asked, rolling onto his side to regard her. “If so, I’m flattered.” 

“Don’t be too flattered.” Írimë wiped her hands on a cloth and turned to face him. “I could be lying, to curry favor. Perhaps I say it to all my nephews. But as far as superlatives go, you certainly are my  _rudest_ nephew.” 

“That can’t possibly be true,” said Findekáno. “One of your nephews is Moryo, for Eru’s sake.” 

“A charming lad,” said Írimë, twisting her hair into a loose knot on top of her head. “Most well-mannered and respectful.” 

“Now I  _know_  you’re a liar,” said Findekáno, laughing. “But why am I the rudest?” 

Írimë spread her hands wide. “You come bursting into a lady’s chambers with hardly a knock or a word of warning, un-chaperoned – my heavens, Findekáno, I could have been doing anything in here!” 

“Like what?" asked Findekáno, interested.

“Sometimes I climb the walls,” said Írimë, turning back to the basin. She hefted it and carried it to the window to empty it. “Practice my form, you know. But I nearly gave your father heart failure once.” 

“How? Did you drop on him from above?”

“Not quite.” Írimë grinned. “ _He_  thought he was sneaking into an abandoned room with his paramour. But just as they started to enjoy themselves – ” 

“Stop,” said Findekáno, plugging his ears. “I will leave. If you’re talking about my father and mother – and wait, if not my mother, then who – no, I don’t want to know. Just don’t say anything more explicit.” 

“ – when he looked up and spotted me perched above the window.” Írimë chuckled. “Did you know your father screams like a tiny child? And it  _was_  your mother, incidentally, so no fear on that front, but I shan’t tell you what she was – or wasn’t – wearing.” 

Findekáno made a face. “Cheers.” 

“Anyway.” Írimë put her head on one side and planted her hands on her hips. She tapped one toe, thinking. She was wearing her climbing clothes, and her legs were bare from the knee down, her feet tough and blackened from the cliffs. “What were we talking about?” 

“How I’m your favorite – if rudest – nephew. And how I should mind bursting into your chambers because you could be doing anything in here. But because I’m your favorite, you’ll forgive me.” Findekáno smiled winningly at her. “And because I needed to escape for a little while and you’re the best escape I have.” 

“Surely not.” Írimë crossed over to the couch and pushed at his legs until he made room for her to sit beside him. “I would have thought your best escape was with that handsome cousin of yours. One of my infinite other nephews. You know, the tall one.” She winked at him. 

“That’s – it’s not – ” Findekáno began, and sighed. “It’s because of Maitimo that I need to escape,” he mumbled and buried his face in a pillow. 

- 

It had begun, as it always seemed to, with Maitimo being infuriating. 

Findekáno slumped back against the cool wall of the stable with a huff of frustration, his tunic pulled open to the waist, his braids disheveled, feeling distinctly peeved. 

Maitimo, in contrast, was the picture of composure – hair neat, clothes tidy, face studiously blank – but for his restless pacing. 

“Stop stalking about,” Findekáno snapped, at last, and Maitimo came to a halt before him. His gaze met Findekáno’s, then flickered over his bare chest and heated face, and that familiar look of hunger and suppressed desire came into his eyes with such intensity that Findekáno couldn’t help reaching for him.

But Maitimo pulled back. 

Again. 

“No,” he said. “No, this is precisely what we need to discuss. I cannot – it is not seemly – I cannot just keep ravishing you in every dark corner we come to. Have we no self-control? At this rate, we’re bound to get caught. And then – my father…” 

Findekáno waited, but Maitimo had trailed off, looking distressed. When he was certain that Maitimo was done talking, he said, “‘Ravishing’ me? What, am I a maiden fair and you a fierce bandit?” 

Maitimo groaned. “Of all things to respond to, that – ” 

“Well, nothing else you said is worth responding to.” 

“Findekáno – ” 

“Look. As long as we’re around each other, you’re going to want you to drag me off into dark corners and ravish me.” Findekáno grinned. “And I’m not going to stop you. In fact, I will be most put out if there comes a time when you  _don’t_  want to ravish me in dark corners.” 

“Then maybe we shouldn’t be around each other.” 

Findekáno gave a growl of impatience. “If I thought you meant that, Maitimo – ” 

“We can’t just keep going like this!” cried Maitimo. “We’re going to get caught, we’re going to be seen, we’re going to be suspected, _something_ , and then – ” 

“And then what?” Findekáno demanded, pushing himself up from the wall and coming close to Maitimo. “What exactly do you think will happen? Will the Trees cease to give their light? Will the Valar turn their faces from us? Will the seas rise and the earth burn and – ”

Maitimo clasped a hand over Findekáno’s mouth. “Stop it. That’s either blasphemy or melodrama, and either way – ” 

Findekáno pulled free. “Exactly! Calm  _down_ , Maitimo. Bedding me is not going to bring the world down on our heads.” 

Maitimo slumped, and Findekáno took the opportunity to wind his arms around his cousin’s waist. Maitimo let his head come to rest on Findekáno’s shoulder, and Findekáno twined his fingers into Maitimo’s hair, tugging lightly. “It’s not the end of the world if our families find out.” 

“That’s what you think,” mumbled Maitimo, turning his head so that his mouth was pressed to Findekáno’s neck. 

“Yes. And it’s because I am much wiser than you.” 

Maitimo laughed, and wrapped his arms around Findekáno in turn, raising his head so he could kiss Findekáno on the lips. “What a novel idea.” 

Findekáno kissed him back fiercely, and let his fingers wander over Maitimo’s chest, seeking to undo the laces of his shirt. “Shall we finish what we started, then?”

Maitimo seemed in no position to argue, as Findekáno’s hands slid under his clothes and he pushed his cousin back against the wall. “You win,” he murmured, as Findekáno sucked a mark onto his collarbone, and then he gasped as Findekáno’s hands wandered lower. “You always – ” 

“Nelyo?”

The call came from the entrance to the stables, and Maitimo straightened up abruptly, pushing Findekáno gently but insistently off him. 

“I’m here,” he called back, hurriedly doing up his shirt and raking his fingers through his hair. 

Findekáno gave him a blistering look, but Maitimo ignored him. 

“Oh, good. Atar’s looking for you.” Pityo’s voice drifted back. “What are you doing back there?”

“Nothing. I’m coming.” Maitimo shot Findekáno a look, as if to say,  _I told you_. 

Findekáno just glared back at him, utterly – and painfully – frustrated. 

“This has to stop,” murmured Maitimo, and he straightened his back and walked swiftly away. 

Findekáno fell back against the wall and willed himself not to scream.  _Insufferable._ The things Maitimo chose to worry about… 

_What’s the worst that could happen if someone knew?_

He bit his lip thoughtfully as he started to re-lace his tunic.  _Perhaps I shall find out._  

- 

Írimë was watching him, considering. 

“So,” she said, and stopped. 

Findekáno waited. 

Írimë let out a breath and put her feet up on the low table in front of the couch. “So you and Maitimo are lovers.” 

“Yes.” 

Írimë pursed her lips. “And you’re telling  _me_ …to see how I’ll react. Because I am such a good bellwether for people like your father. Or, Valar forefend, Fëanaro.” 

“Well, when you put it like that,” Findekáno began.

“You do know that I am unlikely to respond in the same way I would if I were either of your fathers.” 

“Yes.” 

“You do know that I tend to disagree with my brothers on just about everything.” 

Findekáno smiled a little. “Why do you think you’re my favorite aunt?”

“Bless.” Írimë shook her head fondly. 

There was a silence. 

“So,” began Findekáno, slightly nervously, “what do you – ” 

“You sought my reaction. Here it is,” Írimë leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and looked him in the eye. “Darling boy, I am so happy you found someone to love.”

Findekáno went pink. “…Thanks, Auntie.” 

“I have little doubt that he loves you too, and Finno, you deserve to be loved. But here’s the thing.” Írimë tapped her fingers on his knee. “This is not the most conventional of couplings. And there are those who will hate you for it; those who will scorn you; those who will try to end it. And I’m afraid to say, that some of those people are in this very family. And I think it is fear of this that drives your Maitimo to push you away. He is not, perhaps, being as diplomatic as he might be, and is certainly giving you mixed messages, but I have no doubt that he, with the brutal pragmatism of his father – and mother, if it comes to that – is trying to do what’s best.”

Findekáno started to protest, and Írimë stopped him.

“Findekáno, I was young once, and I have been in love, and I have had youthful trysts in inappropriate places – and with inappropriate people. I have also been caught in compromising positions in said places, with said people. No,” she said, as he opened his mouth curiously, “Don’t ask.

"What I’m saying is that I therefore know that what the young think of as discretion is rarely as discreet as they believe it. And I also know that censure can be an unpleasant draught to drink. So here’s my advice: go to Maitimo, tell him you won’t let him push you away for propriety’s sake, but, for his sake, and your sake, and Valar knows for the sake of anyone walking in on you two, no more canoodling in public places!” 

Findekáno closed his mouth. Írimë patted him on the arm. 

“That’s your advice,” he said at last. “Discretion?” 

Írimë shrugged. “You’re the one who came to me; I never said I was any good at this sort of thing. But I do know my brothers, and I think ignorance will be blissful for them both.” 

Findekáno sighed. “I suppose I should have known better than to think we could stop hiding.” 

She looked at him with true empathy in her eyes. “It is bitter, indeed, nephew. I know.” 

“And he can be so… _frustrating_ ,” Findekáno mumbled. “So why is he so irresistible to me?” 

Írimë laughed. “The heart does not make its decisions based on what’s easy. And you have not chosen an easy one to love. But then, I am hardly one to judge.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his brow. “Good luck, my sweet.”

**Author's Note:**

> 0\. Since I know next to nothing about Lalwen, I have decided picture her as a rock climbing instructor. Because why the hell not.


End file.
